


Temptation Will Be Your Downfall. And Mine.

by Skchorpion



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 5th year, Enemies, M/M, Temptation, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 22:25:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skchorpion/pseuds/Skchorpion
Summary: Draco decides to get back at Harry for humiliating him once again. He pays a visit to the Gryffindor common room and comes up with a cunning plan.Set during 5th year, Draco's POV.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter really was the bane of Draco’s existence. He was a right twat even without the whole hero thing, and he had once again! publicly humiliated the Malfoys. He couldn’t just let Potter disrespect his father like that, whether the Dark Lord knew of it or not. This was becoming a recurring theme and Draco had to get back at Potter before things got worse.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to draw attention or do anything public himself – the stakes were now a lot higher and someone looking into the Malfoy Manor for whatever purposes could’ve cost Draco more than his own life. Or his family’s honor. This was beyond that.

Draco also didn’t know how much he could trust Crabbe or Goyle, so they were out of the question. Thankfully they were still quite dim, as other slytherins would’ve been a much bigger threat if someone was to find out. Better be careful. Better be alone. This plan didn't need much anyway. Just a simple in-and-out, cause havoc and laugh a little the next morning. Nobody had to know it was him.


	2. Chapter 2

Draco slipped inside the Gryffindor common room with a simple disillusionment charm. The gryffindors were particularly rowdy after dinner and he could easily tumble through the portrait hole amongst the yelling fools. Not that any of them would be perceptive enough to notice him anyway.

He quickly found a corner behind a statue with some sort of plant on it and crouched down. After re-checking his disillusionment charm Draco shifted around in order to find a position that would not end with a stiff back and aching legs. He couldn’t exactly sprawl all over the place - who knows who might want to wander into his corner and accidentally trip on his – very graceful, mind you! - legs.

Potter, the brat, was nowhere to be found. He barely registered any familiar faces, as most of the people Potter usually spoke to were nowhere to be found. Maybe he had finished early and was already up in the dormitory? What if he somehow knew of his plan and was waiting to attack him while he was all alone, without Crabbe and Goyle? Panic rose in his chest but he suppressed it angrily. Most definitely not. Potter wasn’t that bright and no one knew of his plan anyway. Plus Draco would’ve noticed Potter leaving the dinner early. He had had his eyes on the idiot for most of the time.

Still, where were the others? Not only were the Weasel and Granger missing but he couldn’t see Finnigan or Dean Thomas anywhere in the common room. The distasteful place was filled with literal children and stressed seventh-years. Well, he would just have to wait then, Draco figured. They would turn up eventually, or they wouldn’t be able to go to sleep. The corridors were guarded, after all. Plus it wasn’t like he would do anything before nightfall anyway. He could wait.

Hours went by and Draco was beginning to think that he had chosen a bad day for this operation. He could be writing his Transfiguration essay that was due on Monday on the comfortable leather couch in his own common room, he could banter with Blaise and maybe even pressure Theo to confess his feelings. Oh, Slytherin common room was always a comforting luxury where Draco knew every rule and nobody stepped in his space. Except for maybe Pansy, who was for some reason trying to spy on him, again. The audacity...

Suddenly, a group of gryffindors came in through the portrait hole. Draco found it suspicious that such a large group came in almost all at once, even though Umbridge had forbidden group activities, so he filed that information away for future use. It seemed like it wasn’t that impractical of him to hide this early as he had originally thought. The newcomers were discussing spells and seemed to be in a happy mood, so they were definitely up to something. He just had to find out what. Maybe he could get Blaise to bribe some ravenclaws about this.

Granger and Weasel arrived several minutes later than the others. Probably a move enforced by Granger’s intelligent side. Draco was sure that if the other gryffindors didn’t have Granger they wouldn’t be able to succeed in half the things he knew they were up to. What a pity she didn’t end up in Ravenclaw. Gryffindors were much easier to herd when they had no brains. Draco shook his head and tried to listen to the conversation between the two. After all – Potter still hadn’t shown up.

„...all I’m saying is that we could go there without all the others and practice on our own. I wouldn’t mind moving on to more higher level stuff...“ he heard Weasley brag quietly.

„As if you’d master the Patronus charm with just a week, Ron. I know Harry did it relatively fast but it is still highly complicated spell and –,“ Granger answered, walking to the stairs that led to the dormitories. Draco couldn’t hear anything about Potter’s whereabouts, but his friends didn’t seem all too worried. Who even taught Potter the spell in the first place? And was he really able to produce a full corporeal Patronus as the rumors had said? He only saw a whiff of white smoke when he had pranked Potter in the third year. Nah, he couldn't be that good in DADA, Draco smirked.

He looked up and saw Potter's friends disappear into their respective dorms. A minute later they were back in the common room, still arguing. Granger sat down from out of Draco's view with a bunch of textbooks, whereas Weasley seemed to only have taken an ink pot and some parchment. They continued talking more quietly, which made Draco rethink the usage of extendable ears he had heard some 4th years talking about. Were they really learning the Patronus charm behind Umbridge’s back? Who was teaching them? McGonagall maybe? Or had they found a way to let that werewolf into school again? Draco scoffed. Wouldn’t be the first time Dumbledore arranged some shady business under all of their noses.

Several people left to their dorms in the next half an hour and the lights in the common room dimmed. He focused on listening in on the gryffindors that were still there, but no one mentioned what they had been up to after dinner. At last he noticed that Potter had arrived. He didn’t hear him come in through the portrait hole but for some reason he was just standing near the entrance, unmoving. Granger noticed as well, tapping on Weasley’s shoulder with more force than strictly necessary. That seemed to shake Potter out of his numbness, because he walked to the fireplace and sank to the armchair next to Granger.

„What kept you?“ Weasley asked from the hearthrug he was laying on. Potter, however, did not – could not answer. His face was blank and his eyes seemed glassy. Draco wondered whether he had been obliviated – maybe Umbridge had really gone too far with her punishments...

„Are you all right, Harry?“ Granger asked as well. Draco whipped his head around and checked who else could be listening but there was almost no one left. Longbottom slept on the other side of the room, using strangely coloured wool socks as a pillow. The trio paid him no mind.

„What’s up?“ Weasley asked again, getting up on his elbows. „What’s happened?“

Draco briefly wondered if all the Weasleys shared one brain cell. If so, Ron definitely wasn’t the one using it. Thankfully Granger took control over the conversation, giving Draco a tad bit of hope about getting some actually useful information about Potter.

„Is it Cho?“ she asked in a businesslike way. „Did she corner you after the meeting?“

Harry nodded. Cho Chang? The Ravenclaw seeker? What meeting did the two of them have? Did Gryffindor quidditch team get their rights back? Draco was about to go throw hands if that was true. They had a deal with Umbridge. If she backed down...

„So – er – what did she want?“ Weasley asked in a mock casual voice. He was clearly trying not to laugh at his friend but Potter didn’t seem to notice anything anyway.

„She –“ Potter began hoarsely, cleared his throat and tried again. „She – er –“

Draco wanted to laugh so bad. The disillusionment charm only worked for sight, though. He had to keep quiet, even if it was hard to not wheeze after getting one look at Potter’s dumbfounded face.

„Did you kiss?“ Granger cut in, apparently done with Potter’s stuttering.

Weasley sat up so fast that he sent his ink bottle flying all over the rug. No one paid any mind to it. Except for Draco, who thought the rug looked better now than it did before. Gryffindor colours were truly horrendous.

„Well?“

Potter looked from one to another, and nodded slowly.

„HA!“ Weasley yelled with a triumphant gesture and fell to the ground, laughing. Draco almost couldn’t believe his eyes. Potter and Chang? Didn’t Chang go to the Yule Ball with Diggory? Not that Draco had noticed, of course.

„Well, how was it?“ Weasley asked, getting up from the ink-blotched rug. Even Granger leaned forward in anticipation.

Potter thought to himself for a moment before answering.

„Wet.... because she was crying.“

Draco was finding it incredibly ( _impossibly_ ) hard to not laugh. His eyes had started watering right after Potter opened his mouth. Now he was full on crying from holding back laughter.

„Oh,“ Weasley made a weird sound from the back of his throat. „Are you that bad at kissing?“

„Dunno,“ Potter said, frowning worriedly. „Maybe I am.“

Oh, he was going to have a field day with all this information. The Lord and Savior himself kissing a witch older than him? A witch that had previously dated Cedric Diggory, no less? Rita Skeeter would murder a man to be in Draco’s position right now. The thought of the slimy reporter made Draco want to vomit. Where had she disappeared to, anyway?

„Of course you’re not,“ Granger answered absently, having returned to her studies after no imminent danger was apparent. She didn’t notice how red Weasley’s face got with just a matter of seconds.

„How do you know?“ the latter asked sharply. Potter raised his eyebrows as well, reaction still a little slower than Weasley’s, and that was saying something. Draco tried not to think about it.

„Because... Cho spends half the time crying these days,“ Granger answered vaguely, not looking up from her textbook. „She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place.“

Oh? Draco thought to himself. Granger was apparently more observant than necessary. It probably went well with her need to get constantly noticed and validated. Still, Draco should be more careful with her from now on. Perceptive and intelligent Granger could very well overthrow his plans. He wondered if he could get Umbridge to target her next, specifically. He tuned back in to the conversation just as Weasley hit Potter’s shoulder with an open palm.

„You’d think a bit of kissing would cheer her up,“ he grinned, but Potter still looked confused. How dumb could these two be?

“Ron,” said Granger in a dignified voice, waking Longbottom up from his nap, “you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet.”

 Longbottom took one look at Granger's face and got up hastily. Draco guessed they weren't good enough friends for him to join in on the conversation and honestly, that made sense. Draco had the choice to leave with him or play it dangerous – keep on listening to the bizarre conversation but risk getting noticed by Granger. He had to get to the right dormitory somehow and Granger might notice when the door stays open for too long while he's crawling through it.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he heard Weasley say indignantly. Longbottom was getting to the stairs. He had to leave right now. That was the wiser choice. Never mind that he was now kind of invested in this kissing gossip. He already got more than he bargained for.

 

“What sort of person cries while someone’s kissing them?” Draco got up, wincing in pain, and walked up the stairs as quietly as he could. He hadn't needed to be that silent though, Longbottom took care of that.

 

“Yeah,” said Potter, slightly desperately, “who does?”

 

Draco took one last look at the trio in front of the fireplace before stepping on Longbottom’s robes. The last he saw of the disastrous conversation was a glimpse of Granger’s face that was equally balanced between pity and mild disgust. Then Longbottom tripped his way into the dormitory and Draco followed him as swiftly as he could.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Draco was not surprised by the sight that welcomed him after hiding in a crevice by the door. The whole room was messy and looked like the local house-elves gave up on it a long time ago. There were clothes and textbooks on the floor among rolls of parchment and at least 7 pairs of running shoes. He didn’t know which bed was Potter’s but the orange posters showed him clearly which one was Weasley’s.

One wall had posters that didn't move at all. It was a strange sight to take in but that was more because of the highly attractive men on the picture, not the stagnation itself. Yes, they were wearing strange clothes but the muggles didn't look half bad. The hairstyles were horrible, however. Draco could teach them a thing or two.

  
He didn't dare cast tempus to check the time but he figured it was around 12 pm, everyone was getting ready for sleep. He also got the front row seat to Finnigan' and Thomas's fight over dirty socks, which confused him only until he noticed a particular kind of glint in Finnigan's eyes. He knew it very well and tried hard to hide it from other slytherins to not give them any leverage but gryffindors had no tact. Apparently the rumours about Dean Thomas and the Weasley girl were true, and Finnigan was not very happy about it. Draco wondered briefly whether he even knew that what he was feeling was jealousy. Gryffindors were generally pretty dumb after all.

Potter and Weasley appeared shortly after everyone else had gotten in their beds and Draco had almost gotten comfortable in his crevice. They grunt each other good night without really paying attention to anything around them and closed the curtains to their beds in unison. Longbottom was already snoring in his corner but Weasley kicked the sheets at random times and Draco could’ve sworn he heard Thomas mumble something about having too much hair in his mouth. Another forty minutes go by until Draco is convinced everyone is sound asleep. He was getting more anxious about his plan every minute and just wanted to get the bloody thing done.

He stretched as silently as he could – his arse was definitely aching and his back could pop with any sharp movement, really – and walked to Potter’s bed. Not to the disturbingly orange side of it, but to the nightstand with glasses and a picture frame. The picture was of what he first thought was Potter with a smiling redhead but understood quickly enough that the moving portrait portrayed Potter’s now dead parents. He took a moment to watch them twirl and laugh until he felt sick in his stomach. They looked so young, barely 5 years older than Potter now. He turned back to the task at hand.

Potter was sleeping on his side, facing towards him. The bed sheets were entwined with his tan legs, sprawled all over the bed. Draco doesn't want to look at his face, afraid of some emotion that might rise inside him. Still, he’s here for a reason, he reminds himself.

He had brought his belt of nasty potions to have several different ones to choose from, but now it felt like they'd miss the personal touch of mischief that he craved. Potter had to feel that Draco had tricked him but have no way to prove it, as always. Ah yes, Draco always knew when Potter was accusing him but no one believed him. The boy got so angry and yet he couldn't do anything. The thought of his inner turmoil made Draco’s insides feel warm and gushy. Oh, revenge was sweet.

Thus, it had to be something other than a potion. A slowly progressing jinx or a hex perhaps? Draco listed the incantations in his head as he watched Potter sleep. He did not look peaceful or calm, his brows were furrowed and the lines near his mouth almost made him pout. Potter also looked kind of hot. Draco stopped himself. No, he looked like he had gone to sleep angry and hadn't bothered to change into his pajamas, wearing only his boxer briefs and a horrendous oversized t-shirt. Draco guessed that Potter's frustrated facial expression probably triggered memories of good fights in his mind and that's why he seemed so arousing.

Wait. Draco could see the outline of his dick. He swallowed. All the previous thoughts died as his mind focused on one single idea. Could he? Should he? It wasn't exactly what he had planned but it could work. He knew it would be risky but that just made it more exciting, if he could get away with it. And even though it would probably not bring any harm to Potter, he can easily try again some other night if he wished for more malice. He couldn't get the temptation out of his mind.

Draco licked his lips and cast a simple silencing charm around them before switching his wand hand in order to cast the reversal of a complicated spell he had only heard once. He had found that reversals worked better with his wand in his left hand. Magic didn’t answer any questions, only raised some.

" _Adlucinum tempero._ "


	4. Chapter 4

His eyelids closed as soon as he finished the incantation but Draco forced himself to stay awake as he sank to the floor and made his way into Potter's dreams. He should’ve probably renewed his disillusionment charm but it was too late now. He felt his self float into nothingness, kind of like milk dissolving in tea.

After several seconds or what felt like minutes, a scene started to drip into his consciousness. A house appeared on his left, then some bushes and a trimmed garden in the same dull boringness. The house had to have been in a muggle neighbourhood since there were no magical herbs or plants around, but everything was as tidy as a template.

It wasn't exactly bright outside and it wasn't exactly dark either. With no sky or weather whatsoever, it felt more like a memory than a dream. Was this where Potter spent his summers at? Draco would’ve thought he lived at a poorer neighbourhood by how much weight he lost every summer and how he shrunk into the big muggle clothes on the train. Not that he had noticed.

Speaking of which, what was he doing? After looking around, he found Potter crouching under one of the windows. He seemed tense and ready to either flight or fight, even when nothing malicious seemed to be in sight. Maybe it’s just the way Potter is all the time with all that Dark Lord stuff and so on. Still, he seemed out of place and surprisingly suspicious. Was he stealing? From muggles? Draco couldn't see anything worth stealing and all he could hear were random news snippets from the opened windows.

Draco was just about to interrupt Potter and ask why the brat couldn't go and listen the news from the inside instead of creeping around some muggle house when a woman walked past the window and craned her absurdly long neck to look into the garden. Potter bolted to the street and Draco followed him, but not before he could hear the woman yelling. There weren't any words exactly, the dream just gave him a general idea of what was said. It seemed that this wasn't the first time Potter had been hiding in their bushes and the interaction was filled with both fear and anger. Muggles sure were weird. Or maybe it was just the dream.

He and Potter walked through the empty streets as the dream got darker and more ominous. The trees were moving on their own although there was no wind, and there were no cars in sight. Draco felt impatient, his body was constantly trying to fall asleep right where he was sitting which would end very badly for him, but it wasn't like he could do anything while Potter kept walking anyway. Everything felt unfamiliar and Draco was getting uncomfortable feeling so out of place.

Finally - could've been minutes, could've been seconds later - they arrived to a sorry playground. Everything was rusty and bent, the once bright colours were faded and flaking and Draco really didn't want to touch anything. Even though he knew it was a dream.

Potter sat on one of the swings and stared at the black clouds, waiting. His moment had come. Suddenly Draco felt anxious. What should he say? Should he comment what he just saw or ask a question? He knew he shouldn't mention that they’re in a dream, just in case Potter's tiny brain starts overworking and he wakes up in the real world. He did want to know what the garden scene had been about, though.

He was still undecided as he walked up to Potter, but he carefully masked his face in a hopefully neutral expression. The shock on Potter's face was reasonably satisfactory.

"Malfoy? What..." Potter started, standing up and raising his wand. Draco did nothing to defend himself and just stared at Potter until he lowered his wand. "What are you doing here? You can't be here, they're coming -" he started to look around frantically.

Draco raised his eyebrows. Apparently he hadn't stepped into Potter's best dream. The fact that this was obviously a repeating one made things even more complicated. He had to break through the cycle but do it softly enough to not awake him.

"We can leave right now," he tried in a calm manner. His voice sounded different and he cringed mentally. Potter looked worried and frantic, clutching his wand in a feverish way. "Just close your eyes and picture yourself somewhere safe, it's alright," he added. He was afraid that Potter would catch on and understand they're in a dream but there were no hints of understanding dawning on his face.

Instead, Potter stared at him for a moment and nodded sharply. He closed his eyes and furrowed brows in concentration, and finally the scene started to change. Draco almost didn't believe how simple it was to get Potter to listen to his advice. Almost too trusting, even.

A few seconds later they were in a cramped, pale room. There was an empty cage on the table and a hand drawn picture of an owl hanging on the cupboard. A messy bed stood in the corner with a small nightstand and some stacks of books on the floor. Everything looked empty and numb. Like a room everyone has forgotten.

It must be where Potter spends his summers, Draco figured. No wonder he doesn't go home during the holidays. Draco's own rooms may be devoid of life but that was through style, not emotion. This place just felt hopeless in every sense of the word. He turned around to see Potter standing in front of an open window.

"It's not exactly a safe space but it's safe from them," he said in a small voice. "This house has no place for magic," he added grimly and walked to his bed. "That's why... Why are you here?" he asked intently.

Draco was at a loss of words. What could he say that wouldn't give him away entirely? Should he even say something? Dreams are confusing as they are, real dream behavior would probably be way worse than stuff that he could come up with. So, he did the only thing he could think of and tried to seduce his way out of an uncomfortable situation. Not that things usually ended up in his favour that way.

He let his eyes run ever so slowly over Potter's body, and there sure was something to look at. Messy dark hair that Draco could not _not_ think about almost every other day, a lightning scar shimmering over his face and piercing eyes. Even in the dream his clothes were too baggy on him and Draco could see the tip of his collarbone peeking from his orange t-shirt. He lowered his gaze to Potter’s pants for the right effect even though there was not much to see in those loose jeans. He looked up just in time to see the other boy’s face turn red. Everything was going according to plan – the unfinished conversation was forgotten.

He wondered how his dream self looked like to Potter and if he enjoyed the view.

Unable to stop himself from smirking, he stepped forward and fell to his knees in front of Potter, who was still blushing furiously.

C'mon, he thought to himself as Potter hesitated, I know I didn't read you wrong. He mustered as much lust as he could into his eyes, not caring about his dream self's dignity. Nobody else but Potter would see it anyway, and he would believe it to be a dream.

Finally Potter broke and pressed his crotch closer to Draco's face.

"Malfoy...," he started cautiously but Draco stopped him in his tracks.

"Shut it, Potter," he snapped and buried his face in the growing bulge, mouthing the outline of his boner. He wanted to inhale the scent deep into him and feel the stiff material against his skin but the dream did not allow him the satisfaction. He just had to imagine it then.

He opened the button with one hand and pulled down the zipper, hinting at Potter to vanish his pants in the dream. Potter however could not notice much of anything, he was too busy moaning and not knowing where to put his hands. Draco huffed and started pulling down Potter's boxers himself. Had Potter really never gotten a blowjob from one of his fans? Not even his dream self knew what to do or how to act. He just writhed under Draco's mouth and hands, desperate for some kind of release. And Draco was really gonna give it to him, huh.

He wondered how much better sucking Potter's dick would feel in real life but stopped himself before going too far. He was here for a reason, after all. And that was to drive the boy crazy. He shouldn't let this change anything about himself. It was far too dangerous. Like everything Potter-related. Maybe that’s what kept him from just letting the brat be in peace.

When Potter finally managed to vanish his boxers Draco decided not to waste any time. He took the length of him into his mouth and started wetting it, although it didn't seem that necessary. Draco had no idea how lucid dream sex was supposed to feel so he just acted as if he was giving it to him in some dark broom closet with no lube, no magic, completely raw. And he was bloody enjoying himself. Potter was making the most delicious sounds.

As he found out couple of seconds later, dreams also didn't have gag reflexes. He just had to think about sliding down far enough and there he was, pressing his nose against Potter's abdomen. What a lovely place to be at, he thought to himself before furrowing his brows. Mustn’t...get...carried...away.... he forced himself back to focus.

For some bizarre reason Potter still hadn't found a place for his hands so Draco took over control and placed them in his hair before returning his own hands to Potter's firm arse. Surprisingly enough, Potter got the hint and began guiding Draco's head along with his own pelvic thrusts, making several sounds of pleasure as well as some curse words. He moved fast and Draco knew he'd build up an orgasm soon.

Just as he'd thought of it, Potter groaned and pressed himself deep into Draco's throat, coming with a breathless moan. Although it had been quick and not as teasing as Draco would've liked, he felt fairly proud for making him sound like that. His heart was pounding in his chest and he felt lightheaded.

Potter looked down at Draco with wonder in his eyes and panted "Draco," before pressing a palm to his face. Draco wanted to nuzzle into it and since he had no control over himself at that very moment, he actually did.

Draco looked right back at him through heavily lidded eyes and answered without thinking.

"Harry..." Potter closed his eyes and smiled.

He realized his mistake as soon as the name left his mouth. How could he let this happen? He pushed his brain violently back into action and got up to his feet. Then it was just the matter of one last look at blissed out Potter and whispering „ _Finite incantatem_.“


	5. Chapter 5

He woke to the sound of Longbottom's snoring. It was as if nothing had changed. The dormitory felt cold as he stirred and tried to get his legs working again. Not a good night for his limbs, not in the slightest.

Potter should be in the lucid state for another 5-10 minutes which gave him just enough time to... uh, stare at the spunk on Potter's stomach and not think about licking it off. That was... not the reaction Draco had prepared himself for and he cursed silently. Why did that bloody wanker have to call him Draco? And that look he gave him right at the end as if - as if -

Draco couldn’t finish the thought, couldn’t bare the emotion behind his own eyes in his mind. And yet, he was still staring at that bloody mess in a red-coded bed that looked so comfy and soft. His pants were uncomfortably tight and his legs were aching but he just stood there, unable to move. Just like Potter a few hours ago.

If any of the other gryffindors woke up at this moment Draco would be utterly fucked, being so tired and out of his own element. Thank Merlin they were all soundly asleep. Still, he didn't know whether Potter would wake up after their little experiment or fall into a deeper sleep next, so he cast a new set of notice-me-not spells, resisted the urge to kiss Potter's tan stomach and slipped away.

He arrived in his dormitory without any problems, the ugly portrait had been asleep and Filch was patrolling in some other corridors. He did hear Peeves once but he stayed still and quiet until the feisty poltergeist left. Even so, if anyone had been out and about, he had the inquisitor thing going on with Umbridge and it wouldn’t take much to solve a problem if it was to rise.

As he made his bed in the nearly nonexistent light that was as comforting as cold sheets could ever be, he finally allowed himself to think of him. Potter might not notice anything yet, writing this off as just some weird dream, but the thought had been planted in his head, no doubt. The look on his face...

Draco changed into his silk robes and dreamed of dark curls until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please leave a comment if you enjoyed it! :)


End file.
